Dearly Departed
by Lyse Dare
Summary: A Brenda/Dylan FF. An unexpected death rocks the 90210 Family to it's core. It's been 20 years since the gang has all been together. See what's in store when our favorite friends reunite for a final goodbye. Read & Review.
1. Chapter 1

I had the craziest BH 90201dream last night and I just had to write it out. This story is set in present day (2018) and follows the plot lines of BH 90210 and it's spin off show. Obviously, I don't own the rights to the show or characters, just borrowing them for a little since they are deciding to over take my dreams. Yeah I know I said I was writing anymore, but what am I supposed to do. It's interrupting my sleep. Let me know what you think or if I should continue.

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The harsh wind nearly knocked Dylan on his ass as he sprinted across the yard and up the steps to his ranch house. He pried open his door and slammed it shut behind him.

Carelessly, he threw off his hat and tossed his coat onto a nearby chair. He ran a hand through his messy locks and marveled at the length. Over the years he had tried out many looks with his hair, but he never remembered letting it get this long before.

He blamed his grizzly appearance on the ranch. Living and working the farmers lifestyle doesn't leave much time to focus on physical appearance. Most of his crew had matching long hair and husky beards adorning their faces. He glanced in the mirror and looked at his reflection.

Over the years he had grown into his shoulders and finally packed on the weight, thankfully in muscle and not in fat. Long gone was his lanky apperance from his youth. His arms were larger then they have ever been thanks to the hours of hauling heavy materials around the ranch.

Dylan looked away from the mirror and walked over to the kitchen, running a hand through his beard. He opened the fridge and grabbed a bottle of beer cracking it open. He lifted the bottle to drink, but stopped when a light from his voicemail caught his attention. He padded over to the machine and hit play.

He sunk into a worn leather chair, listening to the machine start. He took a long swig of his drink and for the first time since he woke up at six am, he allowed himself to relax.

"Dad?" He heard his son's voice call out, as the recording started. "Dad are you there? Pick up its important . . . okay I guess you're outside. Mom has been trying to call your cell all day and it's going straight to voicemail, which must mean its dead. Why you have a cell phone and refuse to charge it daily is beyond me, but anyway sorry . . . just call me. Please Dad, call as soon as you get this."

Half way through Sammy's message Dylan had already grabbed the cordless phone and punched in the familiar area code for Beverly Hills. Drumming his fingers against the chair he waited for the call to connect. There was something unsettling about the urgency in his sons voice that wasn't sitting right with him. Something was wrong.

"Dylan!" a voice cried out from the other end, "Hey! Can you hear me? God, this connection sucks."

"Yeah Kel, I can hear you." He answered, "What's going on? I got a weird message from Sam. Is everything okay?"

He didn't bother with pleasantries and got straight to the point. When it came to Kelly he learned over the years that you couldn't give her too much. She overreacted to everything. After a particularly nasty breakup when Sammy was about eight, they both had come to the realization that they would never, ever work out as a couple.

They had decided that the only way for their relationship to work was to focus one hundred percent of their energy onto Sam and raise the best son they could. They settled on a comfortable custody agreement, Sam spending his summers and all major holidays with Dylan in Wyoming, but still attending school in Beverly Hills.

Dylan's heart started to beat faster at the thought of his son hurt or in danger. He had no idea how the years had flown by so quickly, but suddenly his baby boy wasn't a boy anymore, he was a man.

At sixteen, Samuel Michael McKay stood tall at six foot three inches. He had Kelly's pouty lips, blue eyes, and bright blonde hair, but got his height and build from his side of the family.

"Sammy's okay." Kelly reassured, drawing him out of his thoughts, "But, Andrea Zuckerman called me a couple hours ago…Dylan, Jim Walsh died this morning."

Dylan let out a breath and fell back into his chair. "What? No way...what happened?"

Kelly sniffled a little before answering, "She said it was a heart attack or something like that. I tried calling Brandon, but it went straight to voicemail and I don't even know how's to get a hold of Brenda. I just cannot believe this. Poor Cindy. She must be devastated."

Dylan sat there in shock allowing Kelly to carry the conversation, mostly talking to her self. He couldn't wrap his head around the news. Jim Walsh was dead. For years, Jim Walsh was the father figure he never asked for, but somehow got and now he was gone.

"Oh, that's Brandon is calling me on my cell. Here talk to Sam. Sammy talk to your Dad." Dylan heard Kelly instruct, passing the phone. He heard the phone being shuffled around before he heard his sons voice.

"Hey. I'm really sorry."

"Thanks Sam." He responded, letting his sons voice sooth him, "He was a great man." He felt his throat tighten up, a familiar sign that he was about to become emotional.

Coughing in an attempt to hold the tears off, he tried to remember the last time he had seen Jim Walsh. They hadn't spoken face to face in many years. The annual holiday cards were exchanged and occasional emails were sent, but he couldn't remember the last time he had seen Jim in person.

"I think I met him once." Sammy said picking up the conversation, "Remeber that summer Mom made me stay in Bevery Hills? You flew in from Wyoming so we could still spend our summer together and you got me that awful job at the Pit? Wasn't that Mr. Walsh?"

Dylan smiled as the recalled that summer. Sammy was thirteen, a small hellion running around Beverly Hills. Constantly, sneaking out of the house behind Kelly's back and getting in trouble with the wrong crowd at school. He flew back to California to snap Sammy back into reality.

He reached out to his old pal Nat, who still owned and ran the Peach Pit, securing Sammy a summer job. Dylan had hoped bussing tables and washing dishes would teach his son some humility.

He and Nat were having lunch one day when Jim an Cindy waltzed through the door. They were all stunned for an moment before they all broke out in big smiles exchanging hugs and hellos. He remember how excited Jim and Cindy were to meet Sam. They gushed over his son like he was their own grandchild. Jim surprised him the most when he confessed how proud he was of Dylan and all that he had accomplished.

Dylan was hit with the overwhelming feeling of guilt as he remembered all their promises of re-connecting they made. He let a few silent tears fall as he realized that was the last time he saw Jim Walsh alive.

"Dad? Are you still there?" he heard Sammy ask.

Dylan wiped his face and cleared his throat, "I'm still here and yeah that was Mr. Walsh."

"He left me a fifty dollar tip. I'll never forget that." Sam said chuckling. "Are you coming to Beverly Hills? Uncle Steve came over earlier to comfort mom, but he's a mess too. Mom's husband of the month is gone on some business trip to Asia so you can stay with us. I overheard Uncle Steve telling mom about a service was going to be planned later in the week."

Dylan found himself agreeing to what ever Sam said, still distracted by unfortunate news. They had started to say their goodbyes, but Sam lingered on the other line.

"Hey Dad?" Sammy called out, unsure if his Father had hung up or not.

"Yes Sam?"

"Is Mr. Walsh related to the girl from your journal?"

Dylan froze. He blinked for a few moments blind sided by the question. "Don't." Dylan snapped in a low voice, "Please don't start with that again Sam, especially not now."

"Sorry." The boy quickly said, mentally kicking himself for bringing up the taboo subject. "I shouldn't have brought it up. I'll talk to you later."

Dylan instantly felt bad, "Wait, Sam hold up. You didn't do anything wrong. I'm the one who should be sorry. I'm just upset about Mr. Walsh and I shouldn't have taken it out on you. I'm sorry."

The line was silent for a few moments. Both McKay men were unsure how to continue.

"Well it's getting late." Dylan said glancing at the clock, "and I still have to finish up some chores around the ranch and also figure out these travel arrangements. I'll call you tomorrow once I figure it all out okay."

"Okay dad...again I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for...okay? Talk to you soon."

Dylan clicked off the phone and set down the phone on the receiver. Jim Walsh was dead. Dylan shook his head, still in disbelief. How was this happening? He couldn't believe one half of the infamous couple was gone.

Dylan drained the rest of his beer as he walked barefoot from his living room to his home office.

He flicked on the light, allowing his eyes to adjust to the sudden change in light. He walked to his shelf and pulled a key from behind a framed picture of Sam and walked over to his desk.

Unlocking the bottom drawer, he pulled out an old box, hidden beneath some papers setting it down with a plop on the top of his desk. He paused before opening it.

Too many memories haunted this box…too many regrets.

He pulled the lid off and slowly started to sift through the items, pausing at the old worn journal Sammy mentioned ealier. He tapped it softly before moving on, looking for a particular photo.

"There it is." He said pulling a worn picture from the bottom of the box. It was a picture of himself, Jim and Cindy from his high school graduation.

He tried to hold back the tears once again, but they escaped, streaming down his cheeks. He leaned back into his desk chair and finally allowed himself a moment to grieve for the father he had lost.

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Sammy in my minud is kinda an Austin Bulter-esq character. I have no idea where this little story came from, but I'm excited to see where it goes...


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you for your lovely reviews. Chapter Two here we go! I don't own the rights to BH 90210.

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Dylan muttered to himself about the sticky California heat as he ascended up the steps and into the church. He wiped at the back of his neck still grumbling, he had grown used to living in the cool weather for the past fifteen years. He had forgotten how hot Beverly Hills could get.

Dylan quickly made his way through the doors and stopped, stunned at the amount of people coming to show their respects. He politely pushed his way through the seas of people trying to find a familiar face.

He was so focused on moving through the crowd he did not notice someone reach out and grab him. Impulsively, he went to move his arm out of the grip, but stopped when it tightened.

"Dad!" he heard his son say, "Hey, over here."

He turned his head and saw his son standing off to the side. He allowed himself to be dragged through the crowd and into a larger room, where he assumed the service was going to take place. He stopped walking, when his gaze landed on a huge framed picture of Jim sitting near the front.

' _It was a good picture.'_ Dylan thought. Mr. Walsh looked noticeably older, but the soft smile on his face brought tears to Dylan's eyes.

Sam turned around when he no longer heard his father's footsteps echoing behind him. He noticed his father's steely gaze locked onto the portrait of Mr. Walsh. He watched his father for a few moments, used to the neutral expression gracing his face.

As a child, he had a hard time trying to understand the actions of his father. He didn't understand how a handsome, multi-millionaire would give up the only life he knew in California, to re-locate to the middle of nowhere in Wyoming to live all alone.

Walking closer to his father, Sammy noticed for the first time he was crying. Sammy hesitated, not used to his seeing his father show so much emotion. His fathers laid back, go-with-the-flow attitude came across as uncaring, more often than not, but over the year's Sam had learned to decipher the meaning behind his father's actions.

He reached out and placed his hand on his father's shoulder, trying to show him some comfort.

Dylan removed his eyes from the portrait and glanced at his son, looking over from head to toe. They hadn't seen each other in the face to face since his visit last summer. Sam looked like your standard California surfer boy…tall, blonde and tan. He reached up and placed his hand on top of Sam's, giving it a few light pats, before embracing him in a hug. Dylan sniffled trying to regain his composure, sending a thank you to the powers above that blessed him with such a sweet, compassionate son.

"Look at you…when are you gonna cut this hair." Dylan teased, trying to lighten the mood. "You're looking more and more like your mother with those long goldilocks you're rocking."

Sammy pulled away from him and pushed his hair back. He looked over at his father offering him a sly grin, "Well, the chicks are dig it, so the locks stay. Plus, you can't really talk Mr. Mountain man. I'll cut my hair when you cut yours."

Dylan laughed and hugged his son again. He may look just like Kelly, but his playful spirit was all him, "I missed you kid. You look good."

"You too Pa." Sammy whispered clapping him on his back ending the hug, "Come on. Mom and everyone are waiting for us in the other room."

They found Kelly and the rest of the gang standing near the back of lobby, waiting for the service to begin. Dylan glanced over each member of the old Beverly Hills Gang as he made his way to them. The emotions were flooding through him looking at his oldest friends: Steve, David, Donna, Andrea and Kelly. It seemed like just yesterday they were all at the Walsh's hanging out and having a good time. _'How did the years go by so fast?'_ He thought, embracing Andrea in a hug.

He and Steve exchanged a long embrace next, patting each other on the back. He smiled at David who was fussing over one his youngest kids and kissed Donna on the cheek, who was standing next to him. Dylan made his way to Kelly next, hugging her awkwardly while rubbing her back once she started to cry. After everything that had happened between them, he no longer felt comfortable being anything other than strictly platonic with Kelly. She always got the wrong idea about the two of them.

"When is this supposed to start?" Donna asked softly. David and Donna had surprised everyone by defying the odds and staying together since their wedding day.

"Soon I think." Kelly answered, pulling away from Dylan after composing herself. "I think Erin is around here somewhere David. I know she would watch the kiddos for you and Donna while we attend the service."

Dylan excused himself from the group, deciding to use the restroom before the funeral started. He walked out of the room and down the hall, towards sign pointing in the direction of the rest room. He was reading over his program when suddenly, a small person came darting around the bend, smacking right into his legs. He clumsily fell back into the wall, grabbing onto the small child before they both fell to the ground.

"Oops." The little girl said giggling, as Dylan placed her up right. He quickly looked her over, checking to make sure she wasn't injured and froze at the item she was clutching in her hands. He suddenly found it hard to breath. The girl was holding something he hadn't seen in many years…Mr. Pony.

The girl was young, he noticed, maybe around four or five. She had long black hair and tiny bangs that were held back by a single black ribbon. She was bouncing nervously on her feet, anxiously looking around, before letting her eyes settle on him.

"Are you lost?" Dylan asked kindly, lowering himself to one knee to be on her level.

The child hesitated before answering, clutching the stuffed animal tightly to her chest. "Mummy says I'm not supposed to talk to strangers."

Dylan smiled remembering how Sammy acted at this age.

"Your mommy is very smart. You should not talk to strangers, but I'm not a stranger ask Mr. Pony… we go wayyyy back." Dylan said in a funny voice, reaching out and tapping the stuffed pony on its nose.

The tiny girl let out a laugh and smiled at him. She loosened the grip around the toy and opened her mouth to answer, but was cut off by someone else.

"Prue?" They heard a voice call out. "Prue? Where did you run off to darling?"

Dylan forgot how to breathe as Brenda Walsh rounded the corner. He was lucky he was kneeling on the ground or else he would have fallen over from the surprise. As she walked closer, Dylan felt something in the air shift. He closed his eyes, feeling the chemistry crackle around him. No matter how many miles were between them or how many years it had been, he would always feel that spark with Brenda. It was like they were two magnets, forever attracted.

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TBC...


	3. Chapter 3

I couldn't wait...here is the next chapter!

Her long legs were on display thanks to the figure fitting, yet modest black dress she wore. Even after all these years she still had the most amazing legs he had ever seen. Dylan's eyes quickly scanned over her body, memorizing all the new things about her.

The picture he had created of her in his mind was nothing compared the vision walking towards him. Her hair was cut short in a sleek bob framing her face. She looked older of course, but so did he.

He watched the smile drop from her face, after realizing her daughter was not standing alone in the hallway. _'She didn't recognize him_.' He thought, as she quickly pulled the girl behind her.

"Prudence, how many times have I told you not to talk to strangers?" She scolded softly, looking down at her daughter.

"I apologize if she was a bother, Sir. She's so—"Brenda said trailing off, looking up and realizing who the man standing before her was. "Dylan." She breathed out, almost choking on his name.

"Brenda." answered her in the same breathy tone. The air shifted as they locked eyes with one another. He reached out impulsively for a hug, but stopped at the last minute, unsure if she would accept his touch. The last time they had seen each other they hadn't left on good terms.

"Mummy!" The girl said pulling on her mother's dress trying to get her attention, "This is Dylan! He knows Mr. Pony." She lifted the stuffed animal from her side and up to her face, giggling into the fur.

"I know baby." Brenda answered after a moment, finally breaking away from Dylan's intense gaze.

She watched as he stood to his full height now towering above her. He slowly crossed his arms over his chest, causing his muscles to bulge.

 _'Damn...he looked good. This was going to be hard.'_ , she decided after looking him over.

She hadn't felt this feeling in a long time. A thick dark beard hid most of his face, but he was still dangerously handsome. His eyes still had their mysterious edge to them, but something was different about him, she couldn't put her finger on it.

Pulling her thoughts away from Dylan and his looks, she leaned down to her daughters height, pushing her bang fringe out of her eyes. Brenda smiled, Prue was growing to be a carbon copy of herself when she was younger.

"Did you go to the bathroom baby? We are about to begin."

"No, Mummy. I'm sorry. " The girl answered, still stealing glance at Dylan and clearly not sorry. Brenda chuckled at her daughters behavior. She had known Dylan less than 5 minutes and she was fascinated by him. ' _Like_ _Mother_ , _Like_ _daughter_.' she laughed to herself.

"Okay. Well go and ask Uncle Brandon to take you. I'll be along in just one minute."

Prue opened her mouth to object, wanting to stay with Dylan, but Brenda cut her off, pushing her down the hall. "Right now Miss."

"Yes, Mummy." The girl finally agreed handing her mother the stuffed animal before turning around and zipping down the hallway towards the bathroom. She stopped about half way and turned towards them again. "Will I see you later Mr. Dylan?"

He shot Brenda a look, but she avoided his gaze. Dylan was shocked that her daughter would want to see him again, "Yeah, I'll see you later sweetie."

Brenda and Dylan watched until the girl disappeared behind a door at the end of the hall. Brenda cast her eyes downward to stuffed horse she was holding, wanting to look anywhere but his eyes. She let the hall fill with awkward silence, unsure what to say to the great love of her life.

Dylan reached out and bopped the tip of Mr. Pony's nose, like he had done moments before to Prue. Brenda looked up and smiled, "Hi, Dylan."

Dylan smiled softly, remembering the last time he saw her. He remembered that horrible day. He remembered every day he spent with her, the good and the bad, the played them endlessly like a movie in his head, "Hi Bren. I'm so, so sorry for your loss. Is there anything I can do?"

"Thank you for your condolences." Brenda robotically replied, "But I'm fine, everything is taken care of."

She had been receiving guests all morning on behalf of her family. Her responses were almost canned at this point. She was just waiting for the chance to go home, put Prue to bed and cry.

"Your father just died. You are not fine." He said softly, catching her by surprise when he closed the distance between them and wrapped his arma around her. He pushed his body against hers so she was molded into him and just held her close, rocking her back and forth.

Brenda took a deep breath and sighed. The familiar feeling of his chest against hers and the smell of his familiar after shave sent her senses into overdrive. She could feel herself tearing up and gripped onto him tighter. She had been trying to hold it together all morning, and of course it had to be Dylan who broke through her resolve and caused her to crumble.

"Anything you need you let me know okay." He murmured against her ear.

"Just hold me." she whimpered, breaking down letting the tears fall down her cheeks.

He felt so warm and familiar. Dylan stroked up and down Brenda's back in a soothing motion as she cried, mourning the loss of her father.

They stood entwined, not caring how much time was going by. Dylan couldn't help but think about his own father's funeral and the compassion she showed him that day.

Even after he had given her a million reasons not to care for him, she still did. There was a dark part of his consciousness that knew if Brenda and her family hadn't reached out to him and welcomed him back into their home, he wouldn't be here standing alive today.

Dylan squeezed Brenda once more before pulling back. He thought about the little girl who had ran into him earlier and asked the question that had been buring on his tongue.

"So you uh…had a baby?" He said, hoping his voice did not betray him and sound as sad as he felt about it. He couldn't help the lone tear that had escaped from his eye and swiped at it quickly, hoping she didn't see.

It was selfish of him to be upset, he knew, but he couldn't help it. The idea of Brenda having a family with someone else left a painful ache deep in his chest.

"I did." Brenda replied softly, playing with the toy and watching him closely. She wondered if the tears in his eyes were for her father or because of something more.

She decided not to press him about it and answered his question, "Prudence Randolph. Just turned four... she's my entire world."

Dylan looked at her and smiled. He opened his mouth to reply, but stopped. He knew how much she wanted to be a parent and after what they went through together in London, he was glad to see her dream come true.

Thinking about their past caused his throat to get tight. He coughed trying to get rid of the umconfortable feeling. It was not the time nor place to be thinking about this. he mentally scolded himself for even bringing it up in the first place. He was at her father's funeral for crying out loud and as always he was making everything about himself.

"What?" Brenda asked him after watching his face change. She could always read him like a book. He looked like he wanted to say something, but was holding back.

"It's nothing." He responded trying to brush it off. "Just thinkin."

"Dylan." She huffed out, putting her hands on her hips, "Tell me right now."

Dylan smirked softly at her stance and shook his head, same old feisty Brenda. "I just thought…I thought you couldn't carry a baby. Well, that's what Kelly told me anways. I'm happy for you, I know how much you've always wanted a baby."

Brenda's face turned sour at the mention of her former best friend's name. Years may have gone by, but she still couldn't forget the last time she had spoken to Kelly. It was one of their worst fights ever.

Tears were shed just as quick as the insults were thrown. They had argued about everything from Dylan to Ryan and strangely enough Brandon . . . the conversation didnt end well.

That was the night she decided she was leaving Beverly Hills and everyone in it behind… for good. She had hopped on a plane that night and never looked back, until now.

"She's was right. The last time I was in Beverly Hills, a doctor told me I wouldn't be able to carry a baby to term myself and after I left, I explored my other options. After years and years of no hope. I found a miracle Doctor who helped me produce enough eggs to attempt to have a baby via surrogate and it worked. "

"Randolph." He said aloud thinking about her daughter's last name. He felt his face fall after connecting the dots. "Don't tell me you had a baby with that Roy Randolph creep from college Bren. He must be like 70." He tried to keep his tone light, teasing, but he was jealous.

"He's not 70 Dylan, Roy is in his late 50's." Brenda retorted quickly, "But yes, Roy is Prue's father. When I returned home to England, I jumped right back into work trying to distract myself from the all the drama. Roy happened to be producing the play I was in and one day after rehearsals he found me crying in my dressing room. I told him about my fertility problems and my fear of never having a family of my own and right there on the spot he offered to help me and I jumped at the chance, there was no way I could afford any of the fertitlity treatments on my own. "

"Wow." Dylan said shocked, listening to her story.

"Roy's only request was that the baby have his last name, so he has someone to leave his fortune to and I wanted a baby so desperately, I didn't care much about her last name, so it was win-win. It was a pretty crazy time, my dad was so not happy about Roy or me being pregnant and living on my own, but thankfully after she was born he came around." Brenda said trailing off remembering how upset her father was after he found out she was going to have a baby, unmarried and to a gay man. They didn't speak for days and it took a long time for her father to come around to the idea.

Brenda shook her head trying to hold off the tears, but they came again. Looking back on the time she spent not speaking to her Father because of her stupid pride made her sick to her stomach. What she wouldn't give for just another day with her father, she felt there were so many things left unsaid between the two.

"See." Dylan said apologizing after realizing she was crying again, "I shouldn't have brought it up. I didn't want to upset you."

"It's not you, I promise." She said trying to downplay her emotions, "So you and Kelly are still a thing huh?"

Before he could answer, the door at the end of the hall opened revealing Brandon, Cindy and Prue. Prue was entertaining them with some story so their attention was focused on her.

"Oh my, Dylan McKay is that really you?" Cindy called out as they got closer. When she was close enough she wrapped her arms around him. She appeared to be in good health, Dylan noticed. Her hair had long faded from brown to silver, but she was still the same Cindy Walsh, but with much sadder eyes.

"Thank you for flying all the way out here. It means so much to me that you came. I know you and Jim had your issues in the past, but he loved you so much." She whisperered into his ear as they embraced.

He pulled back from her and shot her a greatful smile, touched by her words. He looked over at Brandon next and shot him a nervous look. He was unsure if you could call them best friends, given how much time had gone by where they hadn't spoken, but he still considered it true.

Brandon reacted first, holding his hand for a shake. Dylan looked him over, same old Brandon. His hair was flickered silver, but he still held on to his handsome good looks from their younger days. He had chased the political trail all over the world. Brandon was constantly in another country or city for his job so it was hard to stay in touch.

They shook hands for a moment before Dylan tugged him into a friendly hug. After two quick claps on the back Dylan released him, but still held onto his shoulder.

He murmured softly to him, "I got a bellboy's uniform out in the rental car. If you need me to go get it, just say the word, I'm here for all of you, for all of you like you were there for me so long ago."

Brandon cracked a small smile and slapped Dylan on the back appreciatively, embracing him again. "Thank you man, means a lot."

They all lingered in the hallway, not ready to go in and start the service.

"I should head to my seat." Dylan said after a few moments, politely excusing himself. "I will make sure to find you after the service."

He didn't address the statement to anyone, but set his gaze firmly on Brenda's. She nodded at him and watched him disappear into the church, getting losy in the crowd.

"We should head in ourselves." Cindy said, "But before we do. I just want to say how proud you both made your father. He always said the greatest achievement of his life was being a father to you twins. I can't believe he's gone. I just can't believe it."

Brenda sniffled softly and moved to embrace her Mother. "He loved you so much Mom. I know its hard, but he is with us always."

"Brenda is right Mom." Brandon chimed in, "And we will always have each other."

Cindy smiled and kissed both of her children on their cheeks. Together the all walked into the church room, now ready to say goodbye to the patriarch of their family.

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I just couldn't make Dylan the Father of her baby. Don't hate me. Review and let me know what you thought.


	4. Chapter 4

RIP LUKE PERRY. I can't believe he's gone. Hope this chapter brings someone a little comfort. I also re-wrote the last chapter of One is the Loneliest Number so check it out.

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Sammy sat in the corner of the living room, nursing the third drink he scammed from the bar. He had noticed they weren't carding and his parents had left him to his own devices long ago. Sammy took a big gulp and leaned against the wall, wishing he could disappear.

The funeral was sad. Depressing is more like it. He wasn't even close with Mr. Walsh or his family, but the sight of his own parents weeping made him breakdown and cry with them.

The car ride to his Uncle Steve's house was silent and uncomfortable. Like always, his parents refused to speak to one another until absolutely necessary. His mother practically leapt out of the car the minute it was placed into park, desperate to get away from them. His father on the other hand had lingered behind, gripping the wheel tightly with a dark look in his eyes and a sour expression on his face.

Sammy slammed the rest of his drink back, rolling his eyes. Sometimes he hated being alive. For as far back as he could remember his parents had hated each other. It didn't matter the time or the place, they could always find something to argue about.

He gave up long ago trying to figure out how they even got together in the first place, but carried the guilt for making their lives so unhappy. When he was 11 he overheard an argument between his parents, basically confirming the only reason they were together was because the condom broke. They didn't know he was there of course, but that didn't change how bad he felt afterwards.

Scanning the room, he pushed his hair back trying to shake off the feeling of being watched. Glancing to his left, he locked eyes with Mr. Walshes daughter, Brenda. She was watching him from her place on the couch. There were people talking all around her, but her gaze stayed locked on him.

He offered her a small nervous smile, but she got up and walked away quickly, pretending like nothing happened. Sammy frowned at the brush off. He looked down quickly, swirling the ice cubes around his empty cup, suddenly feeling in-significant.

He sighed, crushing the empty cup under his grip, wishing he had more. Almost as if his father heard his thoughts, he appeared at his side. Dylan looked down at the cup in his sons hand and moved closer to him.

Sam tried to back away from his Father so the alcohol on his breath wasn't as noticeable, but Dylan grabbed his arm preventing him from moving.

"Sam." His father sighed, the disappointment clear in his tone. "Seriously? You're drinking."

"Seriously…you of all people are on my case about a drink? Chill." he snapped, not bothering to be polite.

He didn't know if it was all the alcohol coursing through his veins or the Xanax he swiped from his mother's purse, but his filter was gone.

Sam could feel his heart pounding in his chest...did he really just say that? He watched his father take a step back, shocked by his words. His cheeks flushed red for a brief moment before he composed himself, returning to his indifferent facade.

Dylan gestured his head towards the hallway and walked out, not bothering with words. Sam gulped and slowly followed. He knew from past punishments when he got a look like that from his Father, he was in for it.

He tossed his cup into the trash and walked towards the door, hoping he didn't look as nervous as he felt. The chatter from the living room became nonexistent as he ascended up the stairs. His buzz from earlier had now escalated to pure panic at the dark look from earlier returning to his fathers eyes.

 _'Shit.'_ he thought, looking at his father who was leaning against the top of the railing, barley masking his anger.

"I understand you're upset, it's a sad occasion." Dylan said the moment Sam got close enough to hear him. "But talking to me like that, especially on a day like today, may not have the best outcome for you. So I'll warn you now Samuel, watch your mouth."

"Sorry." Sam slurred out an apology quickly, avoiding eye contact with his father. "I'm just on edge, I don't know why I even said it. I didn't even mean it."

He was spinning. The mix of alcohol and drugs was affecting him harder than he anticipated. He had mixed the two before, but never had a reaction like this.

Sam felt like the room was floating all around him. ' _This_ _is not good.'_ he thought trying to blink away the drowsiness that was taking over his body.

"You alright?" Dylan asked forcing his son to make eye contact with him.

"I did something dumb." Sam slurred trying to look at his dad, but it was hard to keep his eyes open. "I stole pills from Mom's purse and had shots from the open bar. I'm sorry, don't be mad Pa."

He glanced around the hallway, afraid to look at his Father. He walked towards the first door he saw and fell against it. After fumbling with the knob, Sam opened the door and sighed in relief at the king sized bed in the middle of the room.

"Jesus, Sam, get back here." Dylan snapped, walking into the room. "How many did you ta—." He froze, coming face to face with a surprised Brenda.

She was tucked into the top part of the bed, snuggled up next to her sleeping daughter. Dylan could only watch, mortified, as his son drunkenly kicked off his shoes off one by one, letting them flop to the floor.

"Dylan? What's going on?" Brenda asked rolling over and sitting up.

"Nothing. It's ok." Dylan said softly to her while trying to control his rage, "Samuel McKay, answer me. Don't you dare get into that bed."

"I'm sorry I just had one." Sam slurred, flopping onto the bed. "I gotta sleep now. Don't hate me. I'm sorry."

Dylan walked over and tried to wake his son, but he was out cold, sprawled out like a star fish at the foot of the bed. He let out a frustrated sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to control his flaring temper. Sam abusing drugs and alcohol wasn't a new occurrence to him, but he didn't want Brenda to know that.

It had been ages since they had a real conversation and he didn't want their first conversation in decades to be all about his failures as a parent.

He was embarrassed to admit that his son was struggling with the same problems he had as a child. He was even more humiliated to acknowledge that he was struggling as a parent to help his son. Dylan sheepishly scratched at the back of his neck, not knowing what to say.

He was surprised to see Brenda smiling at him, switching her gaze between his eyes and his sleeping son. Her free hand poked out from under the pillow, patting the empty space of the mattress beside her silently asking him to join her.

Dylan felt his breath catch in disbelief, surprised she wanted his company. Many nights he had fantasied about this very idea, simply being with Brenda, and now it was happening. He glanced over at Sammy, who was now snoring softly in his sleep.

Dylan knew from prior experiences his son would be asleep for a couple of hours. He looked longingly at the empty space next to Brenda for a moment and slid in beside her.

' _What_ _was the harm?'_ he thought, glancing around the room and finally back at her. He was surprised at the sudden feeling of ease that overtook his body. Even though the wallpaper was different and the bed was new, lying here with her now felt just like it did in 1991.

"So." Brenda said after they both got comfortable, "Hi."

"Hi." He replied, smiling brightly. "What's it been stranger, twenty years since I last saw you?"

"Twenty-Two." She quipped, reaching out and running her finger over the scar in his eyebrow. "Last time I saw you face to face was London in '98."

Dylan pulled away and looked down quickly, letting the smile fall from his face. He remembered his last days with Brenda and felt the anger rising within him. He was horrible to her during the final days of their relationship ... and horrible was putting it gently.

Instead of leaning on Brenda during his time of need, he pushed her away and turned to drugs for comfort. It started off slow, just using here and there, and before he knew it he was spiraling back into his addiction. Once Brenda realized what he was up too, he was too far gone. They fought about it and she had given him an ultimatum, get clean or get out.

At the time, he had been too afraid to loose her, so he lied and said he was done. He lasted about two days before she found him shooting up in the bathroom and the next day he was gone.

Heartbroken and relapsing, he ran back to Beverly Hills and spent the rest of the late 90's in a drug induced haze. Sleeping with anyone who crossed his path and could get his mind off of Brenda and the pain he caused her.

"Hey." She whispered, pulling him out of his self-deprecating thoughts, "I know what your thinking, but that was a long time ago. You are different, I can tell. I knew it the moment I realized it was you standing in that hallway. I honestly can't believe I'm looking at you."

"Me too, because look at you." he praised, changing the subject quickly wanting to get the focus off him. Brenda blushed under the compliment. He reached out and grazed the hand she had resting between them. "You're glowing. Motherhood suits you, I always knew it would."

"Sometimes I can't believe it finally happened." She admitted. "After all those years struggling with my fertility and she's finally here. She's perfect. I'm so lucky."

"Enjoy it while it's like this." She looked at him curiously and he continued, "I mean enjoy this time with your baby when she still wants to be baby. One day they're holding your hand and asking you to kiss their boo-boos and the next thing you know they're breaking your heart and getting drunk in the middle of the day."

Dylan slipped his hand off of Brenda's and rolled onto his back, again embarrassed. He clasped his hands together and placed them behind his head, too ashamed to meet her eyes.

"Sammy's been giving you a hard time ?" He heard her ask.

"Sam is... well Sammy is adjusting." Dylan replied, trying to keep his answer vague.

He was unsure what Kelly had told anyone about Sammy's problems and he didn't want her to start a fight about it. He knew he would have to confront her later about the pills Sammy had taken and he didn't want to start an unnecessary fight.

Dylan sighed deeply, thinking about his son. Sammy was usually a pretty well behaved kid, but boy did he struggle. He could be happy one moment and then raging mad the next. It didn't help when Sammy would add alcohol into the mix. The only time Dylan could recall anyone acting out in the same manner was the late Jackie Taylor.

Over the years, Kelly had refused to accept that their son could be struggling from the same illness her mother had and it drove him crazy. They were constantly at odds on how to raise their son. His erratic behavior today just helped emphasized his point, something was seriously going on with Sam.

"Hey." Brenda called out to him, pulling him from his thoughts. He tore his eyes away from Sammy and locked eyes with her. "You don't have anything to explain to me. I just- well you know I'm always here for you."

"I know." he quickly responded rolling back to face her again, daring to scoot a little closer to her than before. "Trust me, I know and I don't know what I've done to deserve your compassion after everything. I've let too much time go by, not reaching out to you, but you have to know I am always here for you. And things with Sam are ... complicated and I want to tell you about it, but now isn't the time. I don't want you worrying about me when your focus should be on you. I know you're hurting right now."

Brenda broke eye contact with him and looked down. He was right. She was hurting, feeling absolutely wrecked inside. Her father's death took her entire family by complete surprise. She could feel her eyes getting misty and tried to control her emotions. She cleared her throat before speaking.

"I honestly can't believe he's gone. I know it's crazy, but I had this idea that my Dad would just be around forever, you know? Bossing us around and playing that stupid electric piano. When Mom called and told me that he had a heart attack and had died, I was just shocked. I still am in shock. I can't believe he's gone."

Dylan reached out and tucked some of the falling hair in her face behind her ear. He smiled softly when she nuzzled into his touch, "He's still with you. He always will be."

"I know, but deep down I feel like I cheated my Father. I wasted so much time." She wailed, now crying, "I waited too long to have kids and now he's gone! Prue doesn't get to have my dad in her life, just his memories and that's not enough! I know when you knew him he was over bearing and strong minded, but he really was the best Dad to us growing up and he's ... he's gone Dylan. He's gone and I don't know what I'm supposed to do with out him."

He gathered his courage and pulled her close, letting his head rest next to hers, "I just know Prue lit up his life from the day she was born to the minute his ended. Don't you dare try think otherwise, okay? And you're going to do what you always do, move forward with your head held high. It's gonna be hard, but I know you can do it. You can do anything."

Brenda nodded in agreement, but continued to cry. He kissed her forehead a few times, letting her breakdown and grieve. "I've missed you Dylan, so much. You are the only person who just gets me." She confessed.

"It's gonna be okay." he smoothed rubbing her back, "It's been so long since we've seen each other, but holding you know still gives me the same butterflies in my stomach just like I did the day you kissed me for the first time."

"Dylan... we shouldn't." Brenda said trying to pull away from him, but refused still holding her, "Please what about Kelly?"

"What about Kelly?" he challenged, whispering in her ear, "I still love you."

He heard Brenda gasp at his confession, so he continued quickly. "I know my timing is, awful, sorry, but it doesn't change the way I feel. I just want you to know that I'm here for you. Whatever you need, I'm here for you, no questions asked. Like you've always been there for me so many, many times. I'm not foolish enough to think that you could possibly still love me and —"

Brenda leaned forward and ended his rambling by pressing her lips against his. She knew it was wrong, but she couldn't help herself. It had been so long since they had seen one another and she didn't know the next time she would get a chance to do this.

There was some irrational part of her brain that was forever sixteen and head over heels for Dylan McKay. All he had to say was I love you and stare at her with those intense caramel eyes and she was like putty in his hand. The past didn't matter, she would always fall at the feet of Dylan McKay.

She kissed him again, this time with a little more urgency. She slid her tongue into his mouth to deepen the kiss, even more if possible, but froze when she felt Prue stir behind her. The little girl had rolled over, flopping her arm into her back.

Pulling away from his lips, she rested against the pillow, trying to calm down. ' _Jesus, Brenda, Get a grip.'_ She thought to herself.

Distracting herself from her racing hormones, she reached out and stroked his face, allowing her fingers to comb through his thick beard. She smiled as Dylan closed his eyes, relaxing under her touch.

She took the chance to memorize the changes to his appearance. The only major change was beard and a few worry lines on his forehead. "I've never seen you with a beard before." She commented, "I like it."

It tickled her lips when they kissed and now all her brain could focus on was feeling the sensation again. "This is crazy. I am acting crazy." she said to him, vocalizing her thoughts.

"You aren't crazy." Dylan replied simply, not opening his eyes.

"What I want sounds crazy."

"Yeah what's that?" He asked now gazing at her intensely.

"I want to kiss you again and I don't wanna stop. I just - I just want to lay here with you and our kids and pretend for a while that we are a real family. I wanna pretend like we didn't spend the last twenty two years apart from each other. I wanna forget all the bad things that happened between us and just be here with you. I know it sounds crazy, I know I'm acting crazy, this whole day has been crazy, but it's what I need. It's crazy right?" She finished ranting, looking over him at the end of her speech.

Dylan smiled, shaking his head. Same old theatrical Brenda, "No baby, its not crazy to me."

He watched confused as she removed herself from Prue's hold and adjusted the sleeping girl so she was safely nuzzled into the top corner of the bed. Realizing what she wanted, he scooted over making room for her on his side of the bed.

Brenda leaned into his arms and cocooned herself into his hold. They both let out a mutual sigh of relief as they got comfortable, drifting off into a comfortable sleep.

* * *

Ugh I love this story. What do you guys want to see in future chapters? Review!


	5. Chapter 5

The sun had long set in the sky and nighttime had fallen over Beverly Hills. Many of the attendees from earlier had left, leaving only a select few family members and the good old gang lingering around the former Walsh house.

Kelly was sitting alone in the kitchen, feeling anxious. She spun the ring on her finger, hoping she didn't look as awkward as she felt. Her son had disappeared to God knows where and Donna was off tending to the baby. During the lonely moments like this in her life, Kelly wished she had done things differently, made different choices.

Her husband was off in some other county, Germany maybe… or was it China, she didn't know. He had told her he was too busy with business to fly home and attend the service with her. It didn't surprise her that she didn't seem to care that he wasn't coming, rather more upset at the thought of facing all of her old friends alone. If she was honest with herself, she stopped caring about her husband and their so called marriage long ago.

She stood up quickly, trying to shake away sadness. Being back in this house was like having a closed wound ripped open again, resurrecting a lifetime of insecurities she long ago tried to forget. Her emotions were all over the place and the pills she had taken had long worn off. Leaving her feeling raw and exposed.

Kelly pushed open the kitchen door and walked in the entry way looking at the front door, she needed some air. Kelly stopped, looking at the door, thinking of all the times she come and gone. She was about to walk into the living room and rejoin everyone, when Brandon's figure disappearing upstairs caught her attention.

Impulsively, she darted after him. As she walked down the hall, she couldn't shake the strange feeling of déjà vu. There was a time in her life where she cared more about this house and its occupants more than her own family. It was strange to be back here now feeling completely the opposite.

She walked towards the master bedroom first, expecting Brandon to run to the room they once shared, but frowned at the emptiness in front of her.

Kelly shut the door behind her, disappointed. She walked back towards the steps giving up. Placing her hand on the rail, she went to walk away, but couldn't. The little voice in her head was screaming at her to wait, and keep looking for Brandon, even when the rational part of her brain knew she walk away.

Earlier during the service she noticed he was all alone, holding onto his Mother and Sister, letting them cry while he sat between the two. Kelly could tell was hurting. Even from far away, Kelly noticed his red rimmed eyes. It broke her heart not being able to reach out and comfort him like he was for her when her Mother died, but things were different.

Kelly thought back on her mother dying. Her mother being the outrageous socialite she was had many friends and admirers reach out to her and Erin after she died. She received so much love and support she almost felt overwhelmed, but Brandon Walsh had surprised her the most.

He had dropped everything going on in his life to be there for her. In return she had clung to him in the weeks after her Mother had died. They had danced along the fine line between friends and lovers, often blurring the lines between the two.

Just when she thought they were really about to become something serious, he got the offer of a lifetime, a chance to run for Senator of California.

He was the perfect person for the job; smart, determined, an almost impeccable record…people really fell in love with him. As the spotlight started to shine brighter on Brandon, Kelly panicked, afraid of what the political spotlight may expose about her past so she broke it off.

Running away, too afraid to admit her true insecurities to Brandon and broke up with him. It was only weeks after she had called things off, she met and married her current husband Paul. Brandon hadn't spoken to her since.

When she had gone to pay her respects at the service he was polite and cordial, looking surprised to see her. She was nervous to talk to him now, but she knew if she didn't at least try to one more time to find him she would regret it.

Determined, she stomped down the hallway thinking of one last place he would go, his childhood bedroom. She paused in front of the door, suddenly unsure.

"Come on Kelly." She muttered to herself, "Buck up."

She pushed the door open and couldn't help the smile that spread across her face. There he was.

Brandon Walsh, the one that got away. He was standing in front of the window, overlooking the backyard with his hands clasped firmly behind his back. Kelly was thankful the door didn't alert him of her presence, so she could take the chance to really soak him in.

Even though they hadn't spoken in a long time, Kelly felt like she still saw Brandon everywhere due to him being a public figure and all, but it was different seeing him in the flesh.

She often day dreamed about what her life would have been like if she had actually married Brandon and became Mrs. Brandon Walsh. She pulled herself from her own musings and gazed longingly at him.

He still held onto his looks. His hair was still styled in its familiar pompadour fashion and he was dressed in a sharp black suit. Kelly cleared her throat lightly trying to get his attention.

"Hey you." she whispered, stepping into the room. She watched as his shoulders tense up, recognizing her voice, but he didn't turn around.

"I didn't see you downstairs." She explained, walking over to him, "So, I came looking for you."

Kelly stopped talking and gasped when Brandon turned around to face her. He didn't bother to hide the tears that were steadily falling down his face.

"Oh, Brandon." She whispered, crossing the distance between them and pulled him to her. She let him cry into her shoulder, letting him grieve for the father he had lost. He pulled back suddenly, catching her off guard.

Kelly looked away, giving him a minute to compose himself. She knew from their relationship he wasn't the sort of man felt comfortable crying openly. He cleared his throat a few times, wiping the tears quickly from his face, trying to get rid of any evidence of his moment of weakness.

"You ok?" she asked after he had calmed down.

Brandon stopped fiddling with his tie and looked at her. He wasn't surprised she turned out to be the one who found him, but didn't expect it to be in the middle of his breakdown. He had snuck off a while ago, looking for a place to be alone and catch his breath.

He had worn a tie pretty much every day for the past decade, but today was the first time it felt like it was actually choking him. His father was gone and the waves of sadness wouldn't stop. "I'm holding on Kel." He replied finally looking up and into her eyes, "I just needed a minute, alone."

"Oh. Well sorry, uh… I'll just get out of your way." She blushed, trying to leave the rom. She stopped when she felt his hand slip around her wrist, keeping her from moving.

"Wait just a minute." Brandon said.

They stared at each other, letting their eyes do the talking. "I haven't seen you in forever and the first time we get a chance to be alone you want to run away."

"Sorry, I thought you wanted to be alone." Kelly stuttered looking down.

There was so much she wanted to say, but she was unsure if he would be willing hear what she had to say. She felt his grasp move from her wrist down to her fingers, stopping to play with the diamond ring adorning her left ring finger, silently acknowledging the elephant in the room. Her marriage.

It was like a cold bucket of water was dumped over her body as he fiddled with the diamond. Her cheeks flamed red once more, as she pulled away. She took a step back, but Brandon countered coming closer.

"Brandon, I'm…." Kelly whimpered, looking up at him through her lashes.

"You're what?" he asked almost pressed up against her. The tension between the two was thick. Kelly swallowed a few times, trying to relieve the dryness in her mouth.

"Mom?" She heard her son say, interrupting their moment.

Instantly, Brandon pulled away, almost leaping across the room to get away from her. Kelly frowned at how much space he put between them. She rolled her eyes, Kelly knew they weren't doing anything scandalous, but she felt offended at how quickly Brandon backed away from her.

"And where have you been? Don't think I didn't notice you had run off." Kelly said, turning to look at her son.

She narrowed her eyes and watched him squirm under her gaze, something was off. His eyes were bloodshot and his face looked clammy.

He was high. She shook her head in disbelief, shocked that her son would decide to behave like his on today of all days. And of course, it would be in front of Brandon. "I can't believe you right now." she said raising her voice as she walking towards him. Before she could reach him, another figure darted out behind him and was rushed towards Brandon.

"Uncle Brandon." Prue cried out, jumping into his arms. "Catch me!"

Brandon sprung into action, catching the little girl before she hit the ground. He caught her quickly and hugged her close. "Oh, I got you." he teased, spinning her around.

She giggled loudly in his ear, pulling back with a big smile on her face, unaware of how close she came to actually hurting herself. "I missed you Uncle Brandon."

He smiled for what felt like the first time all day. When Brenda told him she was pregnant, he was shocked, not understanding how she could fathom giving up on her acting dreams to have having a baby on her own. He was even more shocked when she asked him to be by her side in the delivery room.

Since she was unmarried and didn't want her parents in the room for the birth, it made sense for her to ask him. At first he was put off, but getting to witness Prue being born was the best day of his life, even better than being sworn into office.

"I missed you too, but where were you hiding again sneaky girl? Nana sent me looking for you, said you had run off." he asked the girl.

"I was sleeping in there." She said sweetly, pointing towards the other room. She rested her head on his shoulder before finishing. "And when I wokes up there was Sammy."

Brandon looked over at the boy, who was standing uncomfortably by the door. He saw a lot of Kelly in the boy, with his sparkling eyes and bouncy blonde hair, but if you took a closer look he had Dylan written all over him. Brandon looked away from Sammy and cleared his throat. Brandon didn't like to dwell too long that Kelly had a baby with someone else, it made him think about the baby they lost and the painful hole it had left inside him.

"Uncle Brandon who's that?" Prue said in his ear, while pointing at Kelly. She peaked over his shoulder at her and ducked her head when Kelly looked over meeting her gaze.

Brandon walked her over towards them and he could feel Prue clinging to his neck, suddenly shy. "This is a friend of mine. Can you say Hi?" Brandon giggled when he tickled her stomach, trying to get her to lighten up.

"Hi." She said, still keeping her face hidden in Brandon's neck. Kelly watched Brandon rub her back and whisper a few reassuring words in her ear, before the little girl removed herself from the death grip she had on his neck.

"I'm Prue." She said softly reaching out to touch Kelly's hair. She ran her hands through it a couple of times, "Your hair is soft like Mommy's, but shiny like my Barbie's."

Kelly laughed and let the girl run her hands through her hair. She didn't mind, it was sweet, she forgot how curious little kids could be. "Why thank you. I'm Kelly, Sammy's mommy."

Prue gasped, "Barbie's sister." They all chuckled at the delighted look on Prue's face.

"Okay now Prue let go of her hair." Brandon said reaching for the girl's hand and removed it from Kelly's hair.

"You said you were sleeping huh? Where was Mommy while you were sleeping?" he said adjusting the girl on his hip as he moved to walk out of the room.

"Oh." She said, wiggling out of his hold and landing on the ground. She grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the bathroom. "She's in here sleeping, come see." Brandon looked back at Kelly, helpless, as Prue dragged him out of the room.

Kelly waited before Brandon and Prue had exited, before she turned to her son, "Don't think I don't know you're high. Just wait until I find your Father." Kelly snapped, not waiting for him to respond before following after Brandon.

' _You won't have to look far._ ' Sammy thought, trying not to laugh out loud. He quickly trailed behind her, ready to see the surprised look on her face after she walked in the room and got to see who else was sleeping with Brenda.

He had woken up in the room earlier to Prue's little fingers poking at his face. After he had rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, he couldn't believe the sight in front of him. He had to blink a few times to make sure the sight before him was real, and not some alcohol induced mirage.

There was his Father ... his grumpy, old, infamously single Father snuggling with Brenda Walsh. And they weren't just sleeping next to one another, they were intertwined together. Sammy had to stop his jaw from dropping in shock. He had never seen his Father be so intimate with someone before.

For a long time he had thought his Father might be gay. The only relationship Sammy could recall his father ever being in was the relationship with his Mother ... and he knew what a disaster that was. He couldn't blame him for wanting to be single after the dealing with his mother for so long.

He thought his Father had sworn off love, until he found the mysterious journals hidden in his Father's office. There were dozens of them, spanning over decades of his Father's life.

Page after page, book after book, his Father had poured out his feelings and written about his broken heart. He had always assumed the journals were about his Mother, but after seeing his Father and Ms. Walsh laying together, he had his doubts.

"Wake up Mummy!" Prue yelled bulldozing through the bathroom door. Sammy winced at the loud bang the door made when it slammed open against the wall. "See Uncle Brandon ... there's Mommy, sleeping with Mr. Dylan."

His father was practically on top of Brenda. Half of his face was nuzzled into her neck and the other half was hidden in the pillow. He watched his Father blink a few times, still obviously half a sleep, and place a sweet kiss on Brenda's cheek.

He heard his mother gasp and he tried to cover his laughter with a cough, but failed miserably. "Well, well, well." Sammy said leaning against the wall not bothering to hide his smile. "Isn't this a picture."

* * *

R&R


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